


==> Reader: Lose your virginity to Spades Slick

by SuperImposed



Series: Kinkfills: Happy Smut Edition [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluffy, Kinkfill, Other, Self-insert porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 03:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1712771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/SuperImposed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The sweetest fluffiest redrom oh my gosh ever</p><p>No, wait, please don't. That would be freaky.</p><p>Everything with Slick seems to be violent hatey blackrom. I want some redrom, even if it's grudging and evasive. "I'M NOT MAKING YOU COME BECAUSE I LIKE YOU OR ANYTHING, STUPID."</p>
            </blockquote>





	==> Reader: Lose your virginity to Spades Slick

**Author's Note:**

> http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/5681.html?thread=8432945#cmt8432945
> 
> (Spades' name makes it very difficult to write dirty fic without giggling.)
> 
> ((Virginity is a dumb concept in general but whatever))

He kicks open the door to your shitty apartment without preamble; his hands are busy burrowing under or removing your clothes. For once he’s not snarling obscenities, preferring to occupy his mouth with yours.  
  
You vaguely remember the door being slammed shut before your back is slammed onto the equally shitty couch. At some point he’s undressed you fully, shelled hands now smoothly pulling down your underwear.  
  
You gasp out his name; he silences you by grazing his hard, thin mouth over your lips, then sits back to examine the situation. One shelled digit slips inside you, and you cry out; he gasps and swears at your tightness.  
  
For a moment the dark gangster pauses, fumbling with his cards; you sit up just as he retrieves what he needs, and he plants a hand on your chest, shoving you back down. His hand runs agonizingly slow from collarbone to ribcage, making you shiver.  
  
A very moist finger reenters your opening, making your head fall back against the armrest. Slick probes almost gently, slowly adding another finger, then a third. You whimper, but for someone usually so haphazard the mafioso is being incredibly careful. You can’t even feel the points of his fingers.  
  
He spends so much time prepping you that by the time he pulls out, you whine and buck up, so very close. He quirks an invisible eyebrow at you, something akin to a smile spreading across his features.  
  
Slick opens his pants and lubes himself up, so slowly that you groan and buck again, trying to capture his hips with your legs. Clawed hands grapple your own hips as he moves up, presses his tip against you - and then slams inside.  
  
You grit your teeth but refuse to cry out, tears pricking your eyes despite the preparation and lubricant. Part of you wonders why he bothered; another just wants to be fucked by the gangster as soon as possible.  
  
Slick is content to wait, a definite surprise, clean hand rubbing along your ribs, mouth pressed to your chest. You shift as the pain fades; Slick strokes up your back until his hand is cradling behind your neck. He breathes, warm and heavy, against your chest as he begins to move.  
  
The first time he draws out, you growl in pain. The second thrust is almost unnoticeable. By the time he reaches the third the pain is gone entirely, and you would boggle if you had space in your thinkpan for it. Instead you wrap your arms around his shoulders like he’s the only solid thing in the world, which might be true at this point.  
  
He’s growling and snarling and he wouldn’t be Slick if he wasn’t, but there’s also hints of moans and groans of pleasure. The sounds feel strange spreading across your chest, his ribcage vibrating against your lower abdomen and his crotch....oh gog he’s filling you, hard and fast and smooth, shelled length slicked and moving with ease.  
  
You were already close when he started; when his still-slick hand reaches down between you, just above your joining, and starts fiddling with you, holding back stops being an option.  
  
Your back arches, head cushioned only by his hand as you fling it back, name barely escaping your lips. Your vision goes bright and dark and you just barely register him pulling out, hot fluid spattering your chest.  
  
You fall asleep curled around him; you wake up to the same.  
  
He makes breakfast. It is terrible. You finish every bite.


End file.
